Remember
by Kelsey
Summary: Isabel and Max Evans are brother and sister, by both blood and adoption. But for years, they didn't know this. What might have gone on during those years?


****

Remember

by

[Princess McPhee][1]

Disclaimer: Not mine. Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, the WB, everybody but me! owns them.

Author's Note: Potential incest squick alert. I don't want any flames regarding this aspect of the story.

Summary: What if a younger Max and Isabel, feeling something for each other and not knowing they were siblings, did something about their desires?

Rating: Hard R

I know what I feel for him is wrong. He's a brother to me, and though through the years, I held out hope that one day we would go home and they would tell us we were not related, but now those days are over. 

He's no longer only brother to me in name, but brother to me in blood, as well.

We're through pretending. We know we have to move on. We've known that for a long time. I truly meant it when I told Alex's incarnation in my dream, that I loved him, and I know that Max loved Liz, and cares for Tess, maybe loves her, I don't know.

But the feelings for each other will be there, always. At least, on my part.

I can't make them go away. I try to banish those thoughts from my head, because I don't want Max to know that I still have them. I think he's given up, decided that it will never be, and accepted that fact, much more than I have. And probably ever will. And I envy him that, that ability to love someone else as much as me.

Of course, it hurts when I see him with Tess, or Liz. But I won't hold him back from the love he can get, a love that could be right and true, for a love that will never be either. And I wish I could let go as he's done, burying those memories as deep in my psyche as he has.

But I can't. They are just too vivid.

It was a summer. 

We were fifteen, just out of eighth grade, and we did a little experimenting. We both knew what we felt for each other, and at that point, we didn't know if we were truly siblings. We were going on the assumption that we weren't, since what were the chances, as two of four aliens on the entire planet? (Or so we thought.)

Apparently, too high.

But, anyway, we kissed. And sparks flew like fire in dry wild grass. 

For a long time, that was all I would let Max do. I ached for more, but somehow, it felt wrong. Guilt at not truly knowing, I guess. Because it sure as hell wasn't any lack of arousal. I spent more time... well, you know, that summer, than ever before. Or after, for that matter of fact.

But slowly, I grew bolder, and I remember the first time I let Max touch my breasts. He was the first to be allowed, the first one to show me how that kind of contact can make a person feel. 

And feel, I did. I felt like I was flying, truly above the clouds when he trailed his fingertips lazily over my warm skin. I remember shivering at the sensation, and watching Max's face, glowing with pleasure. The pleasure he was giving me.

Over the course of a few months, we got closer, and eventually, we were at the point where we would both be naked from the waist up. I remember that all changed the first time I let him suckle my breast.

With the fall, our relationship changed. We never actually had intercourse, but I let him touch me, and I touched him. I remember how much pleasure I got from watching him tense, muscles wound tight, teeth clenched. 

Then, things got weird. Maybe we realized that we were living in the same house, or something, or that everyone saw us as brother and sister, or maybe we were just tired of sneaking around. I don't know.

No matter how you think it happened, things felt odd between us. And Max and I called it off, resolving never to do something like that again.

And we didn't. 

But the memories haunt me, never leaving me alone, to this day. 

I remember the exhilaration of our little affair. I remember cuddling on the couch, watching television, and letting Max kiss all over my face and my neck and suck on my earlobes, returning the favor to any of his skin that I could reach.

I remember jumping apart at the sound of the door. I remember one particularly odd moment when Michael climbed in the window to find us cuddled up on Max's bed doing homework, that fall. He'd looked at us oddly, we'd jumped apart, and nobody had really said anything. We'd been extra careful the next few weeks, though.

I remember the flying feeling. I remember Max's hesitant touch, so light, so afraid of doing something wrong. I remember how he used to like to bite, so gently, and oh so skillfully, on my skin, and how that turned me on. Ears, lips, any skin that was the least bit loose wasn't safe. My favorite was when he would tease the skin on my collarbone ever so lightly with his teeth, soothing it with his tongue and kissing it with gently pouted lips.

I remember how hard it was to pretend we were an ordinary pair of siblings in front of everyone else. At school, it wasn't too hard, because I was little miss popular, and Max didn't really hang with anybody except Michael, who definitely didn't make the cool-cut, but when it was just the three of us, or at home with Mom and Dad, it got really hard sometimes.

But I think what are truly my most cherished memories were when I would have the nightmares, awful things, and I would wake up crying, and Max would come to my room, so fast that I almost think he could feel my fear when I first awakened, spurring him along.

He would usually be wearing nothing but boxers, and I would wear either a long T-shirt, or a tank top and boxer shorts, and when he crawled in beside me, our skin would touch, and you could practically see the sizzle. But I didn't notice, because in the aftermath of these dreams, I was scared beyond anything I could imagine during my waking hours, and all I wanted was for Max to hold me.

He would hold me, and shush me, and stroke me hair, kissing my forehead, and telling me it wasn't real until I was calm enough to sleep again. Then we would lie down together, always right next to each other, but not touching. Except for our hands. I could never fall asleep after a dream without holding Max's hand.

Once, when he was away at camp and I awoke from a dream, crying out for him. Sometimes I would do that, but usually, he was already there by the time I was conscious enough to call for him. Anyway, Mom came, and reminded me that Max was at camp, and I just couldn't hold it together. I burst out crying, something I never do.

Mom cuddled me, and took me downstairs, and we watched a little bit of the old home movies Mom and Dad keep with me and Max in them, drinking hot chocolate. Eventually, I went back to bed, but I didn't sleep that night. I couldn't, without Max.

And I can't live my life without Max. I can tell the world he's just my brother, and I can let him lose his virginity to Tess, and his heart to Liz, without saying anything, but I can't live without him. 

If he ever leaves my life for good, I might as well be dead, because I'm nothing without him. His love supports me in the hardest of times, and his hand is what calms me in the worst of times.

I try not to think about it. It can never be, so I don't bother expending much energy on it. But sometimes, I can't help it, and my heart aches with a desire to be in his arms once more. I know I'm only dreaming, so I tell myself sternly to wake up, but sometimes, it scares me how close I've come to running into his arms, and spilling my feelings.

But I can love another. And I will. And I know this, because when Alex was alive, sometimes it was him I felt that need for. And it was never my brother. 

When my heart is full of another, he will be edged to the side. Never gone, but never my focus, either. First love is a powerful force, but it isn't always a true love. And I know I will fall for my true love, and Max for his.

We will both always remember that we're each other's first love, though.

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_][2]

[Back to _The Palace of the Royal Four_ Fanfic][3]

   [1]: mailto:teneljade@netzero.net
   [2]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/roswell.html
   [3]: http://www.geocities.com/princess_mcphee/rosfanfic.html



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